Mulan 2,1
by Alliriyan
Summary: When rewriting the sequel we made one small change...we made Mulan the main character. We also removed the romance, added plenty of action and deflated Mushu's ego. Did we mention the duty and honour? Everything you hoped for in Mulan 2 just came true...
1. firework falcon

**~~[:///* MULAN 2.1 *\\\:]~~**

Chapter One

_firework falcon_

Fireworks exploded in the night sky; blazing paint spattered by some celestial artist above the Imperial Palace, whose many pillars were the brilliant red of wet ink. The countless rafters were decorated with gold foil and complex patterns of blue, green and white; everywhere crowded with red festival lanterns. On the four corners of each and every roof, a procession of guardian beasts was carved – lions, dragons, horses, dogs, snakes; all led by golden roosters bearing tiny emperors.

It was a mockery.

He had answered China's challenge; crossing the Great Wall, crushing their army, even holding a blade to their leader's throat. And now the people of China were laughing in his face, celebrating his demise before he had even breathed his last.

Flat on his back in a courtyard behind the main square of the Forbidden City, Shan Yu had no choice but to glare upwards with loathing in his core.

An avalanche did not burn like this.

There was a soft thud behind him and his yellow eyes flicked round to find the source. They met the thin face of his archer, approaching over the cobbles on soft feet.

The archer made no move to aid the most dangerous, brutal warrior he had ever met. He knew that nothing less than a shattered spine would stop this man standing up on his own.

"Jian Shi," growled Shan Yu, calling his henchman's name. His skin crawled with ice, hair prickling from an old instinct. On the very edge of death Shan Yu's voice did not tremble. "The soldier that made the mountain fall, that woman…"

Jian Shi rubbed his throat bitterly; he had been strangled using his own bow by the one his chieftain spoke of. "I know her," he spat.

Shan Yu closed his eyes, relaxing. He did not need to give the order, and that alone was all the acknowledgement of trust his followers had ever required. A vicious smile bared sharp teeth stained with his own blood.

Death came in the single beat of a drum.

With the cry of a striking falcon, swooping low over the warlord's corpse in an eerie salute before soaring out of sight into the limitless dark heavens; death departed.

**~2.1~**

_By Alliriyan_


	2. a heroic match

**Bloopers (aka, behind the scenes of Mulan 2.1)**

Shan Yu: Jian Shi…The soldier that made the mountain fall, that woman…

Jian Shi: I know her.

Shan Yu: She was _hot_, dude!

Jian Shi: That's not in the script!

…Yes it broke my brain too. Ow. Also, 'jian' and 'shi' are both Mandarin words for 'arrow' in this case.

~[:]~

The falcon swooped down over the corpse of the warlord, so close its flight feathers clipped his face.

"**A---A--ATCHOO!**"

"CUT! Let's try that again!"

~[:]~

**~~[:///* MULAN 2.1 *\\\:]~~**

Chapter Two

_a heroic match_

"I couldn't do a thing with her hair," sighed Fa Li, watching the steam rising from her teacup billow away from her breath. "It's so short! It's barely grown in a month. If you want to hide her ears you can't make a proper bun knot, and if you do the hair right her ears make her look _so_ boyish."

Her husband fiddled with an incense stick. Would it be too pushy to light a fourth one in the temple? Would the ancestors frown upon him for that? "What name did she use again?"

"Ping." Li was unsure whether to be proud or disapproving of her daughter's exploits.

"Do we know a Ping?" asked Grandma Fa, tossing coins into the air and examining how they fell on the table. She hummed and turned her attention to the I Ching yarrow stalks.

"No, I don't know where she got the name. 'Flowerpot' is not very war-like." Zhou shook his head.

"At least she wasn't late today. She's been well-behaved since she came back." The woman smiled and sipped her tea.

"Restless, too!" snorted her mother-in-law. "Did you spot her kung fu-ing in the fields?" The fortune-telling sticks rattled down.

"Obedience; punctuality. Dexterity and discipline. Many important qualities are equally desirable in both a wife and a soldier," uttered Fa Zhou gravely.

His tiny mother flapped a hand at him. "Oh quit the quotations, and place your bets. I want Mulan to set fire to the Matchmaker again, any takers?"

"Grandma!" exclaimed Li, shocked. "A lady does not-"

"But a biddy does! Be honest, knowing how she did last time, winning the pot may be the only profit we get out of today!"

Silence fell. It may have pained them to admit it, but she was completely right.

**~2.1~**

Once again she was wearing the beautiful, flowing apparel of a potential bride, although it felt like a lifetime had passed since the last occasion.

Perhaps that was the truth.

Mulan progressed along the sandy street at a sedate pace, head held high, umbrella poised perfectly; every strand of hair perfect.

Perhaps that was a lie.

In fact, she only appeared calm, she crept towards her destination as each footstep shrank and shrank; she stared at the clouds in hopes of some godly being reaching down to whisk her away; she only kept her nervous grip on the umbrella since it could be used as a blunt weapon if the Matchmaker attempted to murder her – and her hair was not perfect at all. Having chosen to sacrifice the traditional and fashionable topknot for the sake of hiding her ears and not feeling like Ping-in-a-dress, the rest had been tied up in a short, thick, choppy ponytail. Personally, Mulan rather liked it, but that was little comfort when one so clearly didn't fit in with the entirety of the rest of China.

At least she wasn't late. The army had taught her, people who were late went on latrine duty. People who were _really_ late had to guard Chi Fu.

She had learnt quickly after that.

Which was why, for the first time ever, she was early as she approached the forbidding double doors that hid the Matchmaker's opulent parlour. Which was why she had the fortune, good or bad, to meet the previous guests as they came tumbling out of the building.

"Come back when you get personalities!" screeched the harridan as she threw them into the street. "The Golden Dragon of Unity himself could not find matches for you three!" Then her beady stare fell upon her next customer, and two over-plucked brows arched over the heavy blue make-up of her eyes. "…Or you could try her," cackled the Matchmaker smugly; "she's as hopeless as you!"

Ling, Yao and Chien-Po swivelled round in unison and gaped at the new arrival. She had the porcelain face and ruby lips of all prospective brides, and well-proportioned features. They couldn't see anything wrong with her.

Then she waved a long, pink sleeve at them and smiled sheepishly. "Um, hey guys…"

"Aaaah!" screamed Ling in recognition, pointing at her like he couldn't believe his eyes.

"Pi- Mulan??" said Yao, equally gobsmacked. Chien-Po moved forwards to give her a reunion hug, which she quickly dodged in order to save her dress. From a safe distance, she replied cheerfully.

"So, guys, how have you all been?"

Then the swollen shadow of the Matchmaker loomed behind her, writing board raised ominously. "Addresses loutish men in the street _without invitation_…"

Mulan's face fell, and without saying goodbye she proceeded to enter the dragon's lair in what she hoped was a suitably demure and elegant manner. They watched the doors slam shut, sealing her doom.

"Did you see- she looked like a _girl_!" stammered Ling.

**~2.1~**

The Dread Room of Judgement remained exactly as remembered. Draped in dark blue curtains. A highly polished low table as the central focus. Still containing an evil, obese, prowling monster that hated her guts. As far as could be seen, the only things that had changed in the place were a patch of newer-looking planks - where the coals from the miniature stove had scorched the floor – and the positioning of said brazier. It was now notably far away from the Matchmaker's seat cushion.

Mulan took a deep breath to calm herself, stood to attention as the examiner inspected her, and tried not to panic. She'd faced hordes of Huns and met the Emperor. She'd even survived a boot camp full of cack-handed newbie soldiers holding pointy weapons and misfiring rockets. Sadly it would take more than an expert karate chop to defeat this enemy. No. This would take elegance and style.

_I don't think I can do this… _she whimpered mentally, knowing from personal experience that the single most embarrassing moment of one's life could _always_ get worse.

"Fa Mulan. How inauspicious that the hero of China cannot find herself a husband without my help," gloated the Matchmaker. She had been waiting for this revenge. Mulan's matchmaking debut had been a deep and abiding humiliation for both of them. "Or perhaps the soldier Fa Ping is looking for a wife today."

Shock, and the young girl couldn't hide it. She was trying to _become_ a wife, not find one! Not to mention insulting a highly honoured war veteran was, to most of society, unthinkable. Far more than that; it was the attitude that disregarded her and her friends' effort and sacrifices, which sparked the slow burn of Mulan's fuse. Her hands bunched into fists, hidden beneath the fabric of her flowing sleeves. But she didn't hold onto the feeling long, for she was still ashamed of the disaster at their last meeting. The rudeness was unthinkable, yet still understandable.

"You know what to do," drawled the older woman. Mulan nodded and pulled out her fan, even if there were no 'notes' inked onto her arm this time round. And thank the ancestors, no bug in her mouth. The cricket had been left at home under pain of death if he followed her to the interview.

"Fulfil your duties calmly and respectfully." She recited the Final Admonition flawlessly, in the most cultured voice she could muster. "Reflect before you act." The concepts of chain-of-command, strategy and tit-for-tat were now simple to remember. "This shall bring you honour and glory."

"I see you can finally parrot a phrase of less than twenty words. How terribly impressive," sniffed the Matchmaker dryly. She wrote something on her board, and watched her client's reaction with close concentration.

Mulan clenched her jaw and glared hotly from behind her fan; knowing, insisting to herself that a retort would be low-taste and dishonourable. She needed this woman's good opinion.

And beneath the anger was the sad realisation that, despite saving her country from Shan Yu's army, she still was not good enough to be something as natural as a wife.

**~2.1~**

Outside, her trio of comrades were causing a rather unheroic disturbance. To cheer their flagging spirits in the arduous quest for wives, they had begun to sing their favourite marching song. However, this time with the one-too-many-drinks-round-the-campfire lyrics.

"For a long time we've been searching for a girlfriend," crooned the three in something like harmony.

"As the search goes on, I feel it never will end;" Yao followed, heaving a great sigh and slumping against a wall. The other two joined him. "Like a horoscope chart, our pounding hearts, aren't easy to ignore…" Though passers-by did try, by covering their ears and hurrying away.

The verse ended with Ling's usual optimism; "One, day I might get, a girl worth paying for~!"

But sadly the singing continued. He suddenly lunged into the empty square, falling to one knee with his arms outstretched. "I want her eyes to shine like coins, in love with her I'll fall;"

His warble was followed by Yao's rasp. "My girl will marvel at my might, when I'm in tavern brawls." He flexed his muscles and briefly managed to arm-wrestle Chien-Po before keeling over in pain, who continued unfazed until the resounding chorus.

"Mine will spice, my rice tonight, with soy and ginseng! Be worth five goats for how she cooks them!"

"Moo, goo, gai pan, _mmmm_!"

**~2.1~**

Inside the parlour, just the refrain was audible, caterwauled by her not-distant-enough friends.

"**You can guess what we, have missed the most, since we came back from waaar!**

**What do we want? A girl worth paying fooooor!**"

Silent until the noise ended, they sipped their dainty cups of tea whilst scanning each other for weak spots. "How is _your_ singing?" asked the Matchmaker, sardonic.

Mulan stared sideways at the spot where floor met wall rather than meet the woman's patronizing expression. But only because curling up into a small mortified ball wasn't a subtle option.

"I can whistle," she answered. Half joking but mostly serious.

"Cooking?"

"Oh! I'm very good at outdoor cooking; I can catch, gut and grill fish and all sorts of other things."

"Those are very useful skills…" conceded the Matchmaker, placing her cup down gently.

"Really?!" blurted out her guest, delighted that something had gone right at last. She smiled widely.

"For a fisherman's wife!" the woman snapped, slamming her palm against the tabletop. The girl leapt back in alarm. "Or a merchant's! Is that _all_ you can offer? You are now famous, infamous; whatever it is you are, and that makes you an example for all the people of China! Your performance so far makes you suitable for no respectable man – will you continue to show everyone such a shameful role model?"

As Mulan scrambled to her feet, tripping over hems and sashes that now felt foreign to her; the Matchmaker began to reel off a list of the young bride's negative attributes, standing up to circle her like a shark.

"Walks like a man, has a low gravelly voice," – Mulan swore under her breath: stress must have made her drop into the more bass tones of Bring-it-on! Ping earlier - "Posture is too forwards, frame unattractively muscular and, oh! _Still too skinny for childbirth_."

She tried to correct her poise, but it was only too obvious now that she had none to begin with. "You're exaggerating," laughed the girl, voice a soft squeak.

The Matchmaker's face darkened with disgust. "You're fooling no one but yourself." She turned away and pointed a disdainful hand behind her towards the doors.

"You may go now."

**~2.1~**

Exiting the scene of guaranteed embarrassment, Mulan folded her hands one on top the other and tilted her head down at a submissive angle, taking small steps. It was too little, too late. Behind her the one woman named 'scarier than an undertaker' slashed a streak of black ink across her wooden tablet and huffed good riddance. "I have never seen a less feminine client in my _life_!" sneered the Matchmaker, well aware that one of her previous customers was Yao.

The bride halted mid-stride. The warrior seethed.

"Of course," she said acidly, without turning round; "it must be impossible to see anyone worse than me with so many _cracks_ in the mirror!"

A few feet away Yao whistled, impressed by her comeback.

"What did you say to me?!" shrieked her tormenter, and Mulan spun in a whirl of silks to advance menacingly. The prey became the predator in a single instant.

"Excuse me," she apologised sarcastically, rolling up her sleeves and raising her hand to her face. "Did I not demonstrate enough _dignity_?" She mimed drawing a goatee around her mouth, a mocking reminder to the middle-aged hag. "How's my refinement?"

The Matchmaker began to hiss like a firework, enraged; her eyes dagger-like.

"It's such a disgrace, my behaviour, isn't it?" continued Mulan. Pulling out her fan, she fluttered it delicately whilst standing in a pose that mimicked a giddy little girl. "If only I were more feminine…" The fan was snapped shut; she pointed it straight at her opponent and shouted her next words before slinging it away into the dirty street. "Then Shan Yu's army could have done everyone a favour and killed us all before we had to live lives dictated by the likes of _you_!"

She crossed her arms high across her chest and stood with legs akimbo in a power stance before delivering the final verbal blow. Despite being dressed and adorned as a blossom, her aura was that of a blade.

"How can you pretend to judge the qualities of a bride when you have absolutely none of them yourself?!" The dragon under her pale-painted skin uncoiled and roared the defiance of her spirit. "How dare you try to prescribe my value when you're full of nothing but spite; whereas _I_ have battled to save my country and earned the respect of the emperor himself!"

As she spat at the woman's feet – and there was no hacking or waiting for the phlegm to fall off her lip this time, Yao had taught her one thing at least – and stalked away, the Matchmaker bristled with fury.

She returned fire without hesitation.

"You slouch like a lazy peasant, you were holding that fan wrong; your valiant 'boyfriends' disturb the peace with lewd, tone-deaf singing and you have just shown the entire village that you _cannot hold your brutish temper_." There was a reason this female was feared. It was because she was utterly without remorse. "Even your masculine characteristics are totally lacking in nobility! You may have received a single kowtow out of luck, but you have none of the high qualities required to _earn_ a second bow!"

The Matchmaker's lungs heaved with firecracker anger.

"All eyes of the Middle Kingdom are now upon you, Fa Mulan, and what they see is…"

The word slithered out, poisonous as a snake.

"…an _abomination_."

It was almost okay. Almost tolerable, because Mulan felt justified albeit conscious of having gone too far.

She didn't feel shame until she realised that Shang was standing among her comrades, that Shang had witnessed every second of her childish outburst, and that Shang was staring at her with an expression of incredulity and revulsion.

After that, the shame was crushing.

**~2.1~**

_By Alliriyan_


	3. call of duty

**Bloopers**

Ling: Look! I bought a new poster. It's one of the famous classics!

Chien-Po + Yao: Oooohh.  
Matchmaker: *looms behind them* That poster is of me at my debut.  
All: O_o ;;

~[:]~

A beautiful young girl walked past the trio as they hauled themselves out of the dust, having just been kicked out of the Matchmaker's. Her dress was lavish and her make-up stunning. The three of them wolf-whistled and Ling sneaked closer to try out his turn of phrase on her.

The lady reciprocated with an elbow to his stomach and a knee to his crotch.

"…owww…my manly ways!" croaked the poor, pained soldier.

"Um…hey Ling," said the girl sheepishly, waving a long pink sleeve at him.

~[:]~

**~~[:///* MULAN 2.1 *\\\:]~~**

Chapter Three

_call of duty_

Seeing the torn expressions shared between the cross-dresser and her former commanding officer, the Matchmaker let out a croak of laughter. It was clear for all to witness that there was a fledgling bond between the two of them, but she wasn't pleased about that. She was pleased because that link had just been broken beyond repair.

It was the poisoned thorn on the rose of affection. The greater your regard for a person, the further they had to fall from your pedestal when they made a mistake. Every wound cut deeper. And Fa Mulan's latest disgrace was equal to decapitation at the very least.

Shang turned away from them and mounted his grey-dappled white horse. By the time he spoke the distaste had faded. He seemed to have gathered himself again. "Soldiers!" barked the man, instantly becoming the centre of attention. It was the talent of one used to being obeyed. "Word has come from the Imperial City that we must travel there immediately on an urgent secret mission."

From the first word, a miraculous transformation seemed to overcome the formerly unruly trio. They jumped to attention in a neatly-spaced line, chests puffed, heads held high; eyes gleaming. Nearby, Mulan unrolled her sleeves, tugged the gauzy scarf up her arms and stared at the floor; shoulders defensive.

"I, um, I should go home now…" she murmured hesitantly; eager to escape the public view though reluctant to leave her friends so fast – particularly if they were once again marching off into danger. However, it might be better to depart and let them go about their business, important as it was. She started walking, heading for the dusty backstreets that led back to the Fa residence. She knew the call of duty would never; _had_ never included her name.

A flank of white horse-hair and an armoured leg blocked her path. Confused, she glanced up; trying to move around the obstacle. The stallion sidestepped with her.

"Fa Mulan." A forbidding tone halted her in her evasive tracks. "Are you attempting to desert the army?"

Ash-shadowed eyes blinked several times, a slight frown furrowed thinly drawn brows that then were raised at him in disbelief.

"You have been personally summoned by the Emperor himself," announced Shang, his voice clear and loud. _Proud_. "He demanded the greatest heroes of China for this task."

Mulan felt flooded with surprise, anticipation, and above all relief. The heart weighing so heavily from earlier scorn leapt high in her chest.

Staring down at her pale, oval-shaped face; he watched her amazement sink in for several seconds. The solid thud of the Matchmaker fainting was heard behind them, and he saw a fierce grin overtake her.

"Where do I sign up?"

**~2.1~**

Seated round the table, pretending to be calm, three adults and one dog jumped to their feet in unison when the front gates slammed open. Little Brother barked and scampered out to the courtyard. His owners followed at a more sedate pace.

"Mulan?" called Fa Li gently, fearing the worst; "how was it?"

"No time!" gasped her daughter, leaping off the black destrier and dashing through the hallway to her room. Once there she immediately began tossing various items into a sack she'd grabbed on the way, muttering aloud to herself the things she might need.

Grandma Fa harrumphed and folded her arms, drawing herself up to her full, diminutive height. "No time for what? For meeting your new guy? For a whirlwind wedding? To escape the country after you blew up the Matchmaker's house?"

Mortified, Mulan paused just long enough to protest her innocence. "…Nai Nai! _Nooo_, nothing like that happened. Well, actually, we had a shouting match in the middle of the street and…" she dropped the wickedly curved blade of Shan Yu back on her floor, wondering why she'd picked it up; "…then she fainted because…" Peeking at her family's reactions, she was surprised to see nothing more severe than resigned sighs and a small string of coins passing from her grandmother to her Mama. It wasn't hard to guess why. "…You were betting on how I would fail?"

Spreading her arms wide, Li stepped forwards and embraced her only child. "Don't worry about it," she said soothingly. "Let me help you out of your dress, and then you can explain to us what the rush is."

The girl looked down at her formal, impractical attire and realised she needed to calm down. "Um, okay," she agreed, still extremely distracted; as Li shooed her husband and mother-in-law away.

"My little girl," murmured Fa Li fondly as she unravelled Mulan from acres of fabric and several feet of silk sashes. The younger was suddenly struck by recollections of a tomboyish childhood, exploring corners, playing with dolls and toy swords alike; scaring chickens…and the way she'd once thought the blooming adults of the town, dressed to impress the Matchmaker, looked so beautiful. But after years of failure to mimic them, womanhood had become an ugly pressure; guilt.

"Mama…I need to tell you something…"

Dabbing thick make-up off her daughter's face with a soft cloth, the middle-aged woman was suddenly reminded of wearing it herself as she answered. Such a long time ago. "Something came up and the Matchmaker is no longer an issue." The nail had been hit on the head.

"How did you know that?!" asked Mulan, amazed at such intuition.

"You seemed, if not relaxed, relatively unworried. And I doubt even a successful session and an offer of marriage would leave _you_ feeling calm."

Well that was painfully true.

"So tell me. What happened?"

"I've been summoned to the Imperial City to carry out a secret mission under the orders of the Emperor himself." The orders were relayed smoothly, in spite of how surreal they felt to the messenger and subject. Instead of being executed for her deception, decapitated like her ancestor Deng in the biting ice of the Tung Shao pass, she had been forgiven. Honoured. And recalled to duty by the ruler of China, the powerful man one step down from the gods.

Astounded, Li's jaw dropped and her petite hand drifted up to clutch an amulet hidden beneath the collar of her dress. She hadn't known what to expect, but _that_ was…

Mulan's features were graced with a wide and genuine smile. In time her mother returned it, a little shallower.

"How can I argue? The will of the Emperor cannot be ignored. Although at home I may wish you were 'your mother's daughter'; when I think of you in battle…all I can say is 'you are your father's son' too…"

**~2.1~**

Grandma Fa took her time tottering up the worn stepping stones to the ancestors' pagoda. Inside, she carefully levered her tired old bones onto the cold, polished floor; but not before accidentally kicking a bronze gong into one of the stone tablets. It vibrated with a brazen crash that echoed off the ceiling.

"Oh my," muttered the elderly lady with mild dismay. "Who dropped that there?"

The dragon incense burner that had been passed down the family for the past four hundred years was absent, presumably stolen. With no replacement to hand, she sipped the last drops of her jasmine tea and balanced a joss stick in the empty cup. Then she spent several seconds trying to light it with flint, a knobble of steel from the town's smithy and slightly shaking hands. At last, a thin plume of smoke spiralled up.

She settled herself comfortably.

In another realm of being, invisible so very close though it was, the souls of honourable Fa ancestors who had gone on before were now rising from their slumber; swirling out of their glowing gravestones amid turquoise sparks of ethereal light. The Great Ancestor materialised, calling upon his sleekly carved staff; looked down at the temple's single supplicant and gave a heartfelt groan. "Oh infinite heavens," he moaned; "not _her_ again."

"O venerable forefathers…" warbled Nai Nai in a frail voice. "And foremothers," she added after a moment's thought. "Please help to guide Mulan, your highly esteemed descendent, as she embarks on her second journey away from the safety of her home."

Some of the wise spirits were slow to wake up. Rubbing a ghostly sleeve over his eyes, one asked; "Who's she talking about?"

"The transvestite girl," replied another sourly.

"I pray you protect my granddaughter and bring her great luck during her travels." The woman's voice seemed to be growing louder and stronger with every request. "Goodness knows she needs it! Now that she's been called to the Emperor by name, we wouldn't want her to run out of fortune and mortify the Fa family…"

If she squinted up at the empty pedestal near the rafters, she could see a red ribbon draped over it, twitching every few seconds. If she listened very hard, she could almost hear snoring. Well that wouldn't do.

The dear old lady reached out, picked up the gong and tossed it at the wall. The little lizard jerked awake and nearly fell off its shelf.

"Ohhh ancestors, we beg you send guardian spirits of great power and wisdom to watch over Mulan, as she sets out on a secret mission to the Imperial City, leaving in an hour or two to meet those other soldiers who are almost as famous as she is at the Wu Zhong camp – but if you're quick you should catch her in the stables saddling Khan." No hint could be heavier.

"Ohoho…" chuckled Mushu smugly; "I hope your lanky ears were listenin' to _that_, Lao Fa! A guardian of _great power and wisdom_; well, I don't like to brag but – who am I kidding? I love it!" He popped his claws and stretched until all the cricks in his long crested back fell into place. "If the hero of China needs my protection, I'm sure I can squeeze her into my busy schedule…" He primped and preened in front of the shard of glass that served as his mirror, twirling out his golden whiskers. "Nai Nai knows who's the boss; aaaahhhh yeaahhh!"

"And if you can help her snare that captain whilst you're at it, O Ancients," wheedled Grandma Fa, wafting a second joss stick around temptingly; "I will light you _another_ incense stick!"

The ranks of the deceased blinked at her, nonplussed. Mushu curled the smoke of the first offering through his talons, somehow holding onto and absorbing it. "Make it three, and you gotta deal, Nana Fa." Not that she could hear him, of course. Nevertheless the second was lit.

The spirits of past Fas began to gather behind him, glowering.

"Come on, come on; one more!" urged Mushu, ignoring them. He was fixated on the offerings. They had bartering value in the otherworldly realm of the Guardians.

"GET…OUT!!!" roared the ghosts as one, summoning a wild gale that ripped him off his perch and tossed him out the door. As the powerful wind rushed by, Nai Nai bowed down to the floor. A tiny red dragon skidded past her.

"And don't forget the cricket!" she called.

Calm returned to the temple. But not for long. Grandma Fa's worn hand shot out, pointing forebodingly at one of the tombstones.

"And as for _you_, Grandpa Fa…!"

Fa Deng backed away from her accusing finger, protesting with the arm that wasn't holding his head, even though she couldn't actually see her otherworldly kin. "I'm not him! I'm not him! You've got the wrong ghost!"

**~2.1~**

Ever since Mulan had galloped into the courtyard, Khan unusually frisky as he picked up on her excitement, it seemed the Fa household hadn't stopped buzzing. So focused was she that it wasn't until Zhou laid a gentle hand on her arm that she noticed he was in the room with her.

She took stock of her surroundings and realised that she was trying to stuff a spare pair of slippers into her bedroll. Dropping them with a soft _flump_ on the floor, she tipped her head back and breathed out noisily. "Sorry, Baba…" She bared her teeth at him nervously – he wondered if it was meant to be a smile. "I'm getting overexcited."

"It is a unique day in history, Mulan. The Emperor is calling upon _my daughter_ to defend his country. None other has brought our family more honour." He gazed upon her with eyes full of love and pride. She basked in it, letting herself feel more centred.

"And yet, I find I have a misgiving;" he said hoarsely. "You are so eager to leave on this mission, not knowing what it is. I have known few men in my life with such dedication to war."

Taken aback by the harsh words, the young woman opened her mouth to defend herself but was silenced by his raised palm. Leaning heavily upon his staff, he imagined her dependent upon a similar crutch, bearing graver war wounds than the shallow scar that silvered her abdomen. Just as in his youth, he snuffed out the fear of injury and found the words he truly wished to say.

"All I fear is that it is the hatred of one duty that drives you, rather than the love of another."

Silence.

"…Both, Father." Mulan tipped forwards into a slight bow, eyes a little damp. Her posture proved her sincerity. "I can't stand the Matchmaker, and I'm scared of becoming some stranger's wife and failing him and bringing dishonour to my future family. But also, more than that, I have real friends in the army. Comrades it hurt to gain; that I don't want to lose. And soldiering is something I can work at and excel in with time. All of these…" she scoffed, a bitter twist in her voice; "feminine arts – the harder I try, the harder I fall."

A warm hand fell on her head, stroking the thick black tresses that she always tugged when stressed. "You only lack proper motivation," he replied, rejecting her worries out of hand. "You have already proven to the world that you have the intelligence, resourcefulness and commitment to achieve whatever you wish for."

The words were intended as a comfort but as usual she turned away, hearing them as reminders and accusations. She didn't know why she had no motivation, in what way she was mentally deficient as to be unable to feel the things that all other females did.

Then she caught sight of the armour out the corner of her eye. Reaching out to lift it from its wardrobe, she felt all her fears fleet away.

The hardened black leather with its hardy green ribbing, arranged in linked plates for free movement. The armguards and leg greaves with their metal frames the weight of which had taken so long to get used to. The winter green belts that clinched the armour around her waist over an un-dyed wool surcoat. The matching green scarf that only slightly reduced the chafing around her neck.

It was cleverly designed as one size fits all, so what was just large enough for Zhou's great height was only just small enough to swamp Mulan without impeding her. Eventually.

For the final touch, she tied her still-short hair into a topknot and picked up the sword with its fierce golden face.

Her father stared. This was the real Mulan, who she was on the inside. Because Ping was allowed to flaunt all the practical talents Mulan had to hide. He felt slightly mystified – where had this war-like girl come from? The clumsy child he had known was nowhere to be seen.

When she tilted her head slightly and smiled at him, walking from side to side for his benefit the way a lady would twirl to show off a new dress; her movements weren't feminine, but still more graceful and assured than he'd ever seen them. Almost panther-like.

Li peered around the doorframe and called softly for their attention. She exchanged a meaningful glance with her husband. Both nodded; then reached for the pendants that had always hung around their necks since the day of their engagement so many years ago.

"You recognise these, Mulan?"

"Your and Mama's engagement talismans!"

They were formed like a split yin yang, made of ivory and onyx.

"Not just ours – our great-grandparents'. You will be the fifth generation to own them."

"But why now? I am not engaged or married or even courting!" The precious heirlooms clicked together in her cautious fingers, cords worn but still strong. They still fitted perfectly as one.

"Mulan…aside from the fact that you may meet someone on your travels…I want you to consider the nature of these pendants." Fa Zhou spoke like one reciting ancient proverbs. "One is yin, one is yang. Both hold a little of the other in their hearts – this symbolises many things, harmony, family, the balance between a man and a woman. But you, Mulan, I believe are greater than just yin, or just yang. Your mother and I wish to give you both of these, to remind you that you have both yin and yang inside you."

Pressing the warm medallions to her heart, she felt dumbfounded. Because that made sense – it explained so much without marking her as a defect. She breathed out slowly, the revelation chasing out her lingering unease over her self.

"You are also extremely independent because of this – once you gained a little discipline."

Mulan smiled gingerly, remembering the weight of 'discipline' on her wrists; and how she'd made it work for her instead of dragging her down. It was certainly the lesson that had matured her from child into adult during the harsh days and nights and weeks of training.

"Should you ever choose to give one of these to a man – it's clear the Matchmaker route is useless for you," Fa Li muttered, rolling her eyes at memories of her daughter turning up late and covered in straw; "please don't entrust them to any person with less integrity than you. Don't throw them away in a poor trade, and do not judge by material worth. You will be inheriting our homestead; the wealth of your husband is not an issue. Far more important is that you can respect your partner." She leaned against her husband slightly, a living example of a well-matched marriage. Zhou continued speaking.

"And should you never find another to match you, being the hero of China after all; let them remind you that you are complete as you are, and not to despair."

She met his eyes again in shock. That went against every teaching she had ever heard. Women were meant to find husbands, and spinsters were worthless. Value came from family – _male_ family alone. Chi Fu had made that clear. As had the Matchmaker. And every other person she'd known in her lifetime. Except perhaps the Emperor; but he owed her one.

But she trusted in the sage advice of her father, because she knew well how intelligent he was, and capable of thinking beyond social norms. If he didn't, he'd have hated her since a long time ago. He would not have forgiven her upon her return.

"So…even if I'm never considered worthy of being a wife…to even the poorest fisherman…if I stay a soldier until my fame wears off and the Middle Kingdom forgets me…"

They nodded gravely.

"But I'm your only child! If I don't marry, the Fa family will end with me!"

Their hands gripped one another tightly, weathering the heavy consequence with each other's support. "Mulan," said her mother quietly. "Consider this your gift from us for your brave deeds. A little freedom from the duty you hate." She laughed suddenly, trying to dispel the mood. "In any case, don't give up so soon!"

"Not until that Shang is in the bag!" crowed Grandma Fa, appearing at the door without warning. "Now stop stalling, I thought you were in a hurry!"

**~2.1~**

As Khan raced along the dust track to the old Wu Zhong encampment with his usual boundless energy, Mulan heard the tell-tale chirping of a cricket and checked inside the saddlebags as soon as she had dismounted at her destination.

She found Mushu snoozing in the nice soft mess he'd made of all her careful packing and couldn't help but show a resigned smile. Beside him the little blue cricket chirruped an apology.

"Start as we mean to go on, hey?" she replied wryly


End file.
